


rhythmic motion, raw emotion

by closerverse by (wonthetrade)



Series: Come on Closer [7]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Dirty Talk, F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-02
Updated: 2017-04-02
Packaged: 2018-10-14 01:56:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10526472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wonthetrade/pseuds/closerverse%20by
Summary: Who knew Dylan Strome had such a dirty mouth?





	

Dylan’s not much of a talker. For as long as she’s known him, he’s always been one of those guys that’s just a little more contained than others. There are exceptions, of course. When he’s with his boys or when he’s on the ice, showing off that damn hockey IQ with a skill that sometimes, frankly, takes her breath away. He’s not one for excessive chirping, never has been, and Michelle figures that’s one of the reasons why she tries so hard to get beneath his skin. 

Because when he looks at her,  _ really _ looks at her...well. There’s something about being the focus of all that intensity that a girl can get addicted to.

Not that she’s addicted. This is Dylan Strome, after all.

Dylan, who is currently on his knees in front of her, his face buried between her legs and eating her out like a champ. That’s not the surprising part. The surprising part is what he’s saying in between every slow, torturous lap of his tongue over her clit.

“Shit Marns, you taste so good,” he murmurs, sliding two of his fingers -  _ long, clever fingers _ \- inside her and stretching her open, pleasure bordering on pain. He looks up at her through long, dark lashes and her fingers clench reflexively in his hair. It’s getting longer now, the perfect length for her to just grab and tug a little. “Were you thinking of this? My tongue on your clit, my fingers in your pussy?”

The noise she makes is embarrassingly needy, her hips working down on his fingers of their own accord because she just _wants_ and honestly, who knew that Dylan Strome could talk so dirty? “I don’t know Stromer, why don’t you tell me?”

She hadn’t expected him to be so mouthy (heh) tonight. Oh sure, she’d expected something after tossing on a Dylan Strome Otters shirt and nothing else, but it had been more along the lines of being bent over the bed and fucked until she screamed.

Not that she’s complaining about what’s happening now. She’s so close. Every muscle in her body is wound tight, the heat sitting low in her belly slowly notching upwards.

Dylan chuckles, low and satisfied, his fingers crooking just right inside her. “That’s a first, Marns. Usually you’re the one mouthing off.” Suddenly he’s switching, one wet finger putting just the right amount of pressure on her clit while he licks into her, lapping up her wetness. Michelle’s head tips back and she swears because everything’s a little overwhelming, the sound and feel of him combined. “So what is it? You like it when I talk like this? About how tight your pussy is around my fingers and how tight you’ll be on my cock?” He hums as her thighs tighten around his head, turning to bite lightly at the thin skin there. “Seems like you do. So why don’t you come?”

Oh dear sweet something. His voice should be illegal, deep with the slightest growl to it, and that’s her final thought before she pitches over that edge, grinding down into his face until her legs give out and she slumps back against the bed. She feels absolutely wrecked in the best kind of way, and they haven’t even reached the main event yet. 

When Michelle finally manages to get her eyes open, it’s to the sight of Dylan rolling a condom down over his cock, his gaze dark and hungry as it roams over her body. She looks back too, because as much as she gives him shit about those long, gangly limbs there's just something about him. She’s always been inexplicably drawn to him, ever since they were kids playing against each other in the GTA. Even then they were fire and water, constantly pushing and challenging. They’re friends now, fuckbuddies even, but that element is still there, underlying every interaction between them.

Michelle smirks, raising an eyebrow because she  _ wants _ to hear him talk and she doesn’t like that he's gone silent on her. 

He gives her a pointed look, like he knows exactly what she's thinking. “On your stomach, Marns.” She shudders a little bit as she complies, and can actually feel the low rumble of his laugh as he follows her down, his legs bracketing hers and his hands bracing themselves by her shoulders. “That’s what you wanted, right? For me to see my name on your back as I fuck you?”

“Got it in one, Stromer,” she breathes, pressing her ass back against the heavy ridge of his cock. His legs stop hers from spreading too wide, but her intent is crystal clear. She feels achingly empty and if she had things her way, he’d be fucking her into oblivion right now. “So why don’t you-”

He slides in slowly, so damn slowly, until his hips meet her ass and she’s stretched so full and completely surrounded by him. It should feel claustrophobic but it doesn’t. She loves the feeling of those hockey thighs tensing and flexing every single time he sinks into her. It’s weirdly intimate, for all that she can’t see his face and he’s saying the filthiest, most cliche things about how tight and wet she is around his cock but she doesn’t care because it’s really fucking hot and that slow, simmering heat is building up every time he slides into her.

“You going to come again, Marns?” His rhythm stutters a little bit as she moves the best she can, hands clenching into the sheets so that she can chase the feeling of him, so thick and heavy inside her. “I want to feel you-” And for the first time he falters a little bit, stuttering as he tries to find the right thing to say.

Michelle laughs, but there’s nothing funny about this. She’s breathless and so is he, his chest heaving like a bellows at her back. “Come on Stromer, don’t quit on me now. Use your words.”

Dylan shudders, one hand sliding between her and the mattress to thumb at her clit. She gasps, her hips bucking at the sensation. “You’re a pain in the ass, Marns, you always have something to say. Maybe I should get my cock in your mouth, shut you up that way?”

_ Oh _ . She can feel herself clenching around him and yeah, that’s something she didn’t know she would be into, but  _ yes _ . “Fuck. Fuck, Dylan-”

The strain is audible in his voice as his thrusts go a little more erratic. “That’s it,” he urges, his thumb moving quicker over her clit. “You gonna scream for me when you come? Let everyone know how good I’m fucking you?”

Her vision goes white and she’s pretty sure she does scream his name, first out into the open air and then into the pillows as that second orgasm crashes over her. She’s only vaguely aware of the way he yells her name as his hips surge into her one last time, the full weight of him settling over her and pressing her into the mattress.

The feeling is nice, for a little while. His face is tucked into the back of her neck and she likes how the rhythm of his breathing changes from sharp and ragged to deep and slow. But for all that he is a beanpole, he’s solidly built and she kind of needs air, too. “Stromer-”

Dylan just grunts and levers himself off, both of them hissing as he withdraws and pads off to the bathroom. Michelle mourns the loss of him inside her but consoles herself with the fact that the night’s only getting started. “You have unexpected depth, Stromer,” she chirps lazily, flipping onto her back as he comes back with a washcloth. “Who knew you had such a filthy mouth?”

He flushes but doesn’t refute the statement, his movements gentle as he wipes away the stickiness between her thighs. “You were asking for it,” he mutters, reaching out with his other hand to flick at the edges of the shirt.  _ His _ shirt, because she’d stolen it the last time the Knights came to Erie and she’d been planning for this exact eventuality.

“Yeah I was.” Her grin is sharp as she peers down at him, pleased with her handiwork. He might have been in charge, but in the aftermath he looks thoroughly wrecked. “So why don’t you tell me what else you have planned, hmm?”

His fingers twist in the fabric of the shirt, and when his eyes meet hers something flickers there and is gone, something heavy and weighted. It's quickly replaced with that heat she found so delicious earlier, making her heart race before he even opens his mouth. “Well Marns, you seemed to like the idea of my cock down your throat earlier. I’ll put my mouth on your pussy at the same time, and we’ll see who comes first.”

Well, hell. Just the thought of it has her wet all over again and when her eyes land on his cock, it’s already at half-mast. Thank god for being young. “Oh, it’s on, Stromer,” she laughs, pouncing on him.

**Author's Note:**

> This pairing gives me a lot of feelings, guys. A lot of Stromarner stories have Dylan as the oblivious one, the dumb one in the relationship. What if it's flipped, and Michelle's the one who doesn't really realize what they are until it's (almost) too late?
> 
> DAMMIT THIS IS JUST SUPPOSED TO BE A SMUT 'VERSE.
> 
> You know the drill by now! Come visit us on [tumblr](http://wonthetrade.tumblr.com)!


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